


The Princess's Errand

by heyguysitsmerob



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: A Series of Misguided Murder Attempts, Comedy, Extreme Coincidences, F/F, Meta Humor, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-06-23 00:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15594450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyguysitsmerob/pseuds/heyguysitsmerob
Summary: After Miranda's usual assassins are killed in the line of duty, she is forced to rely on Vicky Blue to eliminate all that stand between her and the coveted seat of Prom Queen. In order to win a dance with Miranda, Vicky will have to murder her way through the other five primary love interests. If she's successful, she may just unlock the best secret ending of all. If not, she'll lose a few creativity points and have to try again. Follow her on her journey to prove once and for all why she deserves to accompany Miranda to the prom, Slayer-style.Please keep in mind that this is a light-hearted, humorous story, and does not include depictions of violence beyond what you would read in the game normally. Characters will be added to the tags as they appear in the story.





	1. The Call to Adventure

Vicky was face down on the floor when she regained consciousness. Her senses were very dull due to the fact that most of her body parts were purchased at a pawn shop, but the unmistakable smell of piss, brimstone, and marijuana informed her that she was in the bathroom. Her hands were tied together with rope beneath her. She had a throbbing headache that made it difficult to open her eyes. Once she did, however, she was able to see the hulking monster standing over her. It was dressed in a stylish suit and had the head of a goldfish. Vicky’s heart skipped a beat. That wasn’t an unusual occurrence, but this time it was because she suspected her true love to be near.

“She is awake, Your Highness,” the monster said. Its voice was extremely deep, and the flubbing of consonants suggested massive lips not suited for surface dweller language.

“Get her up, then.”

As soon as the command was given, massive hands gripped the back of Vicky’s sweater and hoisted her up into a chair. She opened her previously half-lidded eyes to take in the whole scene. All of the stalls had once again been demolished in order to make room for a massive throne. It was made from a truly extraneous amount of metals and jewels, many of which Vicky didn’t know the names of. She counted her blessings that half of the lights in the bathroom were burned out, or else she might have been blinded by their resplendency. Seated on the throne was the most beautiful mermaid princess that Vicky had ever seen. Miranda Vanderbilt’s fluorescent pink hair lit up the dreary bathroom, and her glittering scales lit up Vicky’s heart. However, the sudden movement of sitting up exacerbated her headache, and she failed to suppress a groan.

“Are you not pleased by my presence, peasant?” Miranda asked. Her mouth formed a short, flat line. Vicky felt the grip tighten on the back of her shirt.

Sheepishly, she looked up at Miranda. Vicky had overdone her morning electrocution that day, and her hair was sticking out in even more directions that usual. It also seemed like the knockout drugs that had been used on her were upsetting her stomach. As she fought the urge to vomit, she simultaneously fought the urge to fix her appearance. In the end, she just rubbed her head and continued to look upon the girl she hoped to ask to Monster Prom.

Miranda’s face lit up as she understood. She motioned one of her suited henchmen over to her throne and whispered something in his ear. “You should have told me if you had a headache! My Headache Serf will take care of that right away.”

The serf placed a slimy hand of the side of Vicky’s face. She jerked backwards in disgust but was soon delighted to find that all of her ailments had vanished. The so-called Headache Serf immediately clutched its head and stumbled away to the corner of the room. Another serf dabbed at the side of Vicky’s face with a handkerchief, since she still didn’t have the use of her hands. After he was done, Vicky perked up to listen attentively to whatever it was Miranda had to say.

“Now!” Miranda steepled her fingers. “You’re probably wondering why you were invited here today.”

Vicky nodded.

“It has come to my attention that there are others vying for the position of Prom King and/or Queen. I discovered this due to an invention called ‘polls’, a sort of quiz that commoners take to have their opinions on the monarchy heard. One of my serfs brought it to my attention! After having him executed, I found the results of the poll quite disturbing. You see, out of the indeterminate amount of people attending Spooky High, I am only the third highest ranked for the seat of Prom Queen!”

Miranda’s adorable face was scrunched up in anger. She paused and took a breath. “Serfs, attend me! I am in distress.” Immediately, two of her serfs rushed to her side. One began brushing her hair and the other massaged her shoulders.

Vicky was in shock. She found the idea of anyone else being ahead of her dear Miranda utterly preposterous. No one else in all of Spooky High had her charming demeanor and aptitude for assigning people tasks. Miranda looked pleased as she observed the confusion on Vicky’s face. She continued.

“Obviously, this will not do. If the citizens of Spooky High will not see the correct candidate on their own, then I will make them see. My initial idea was to have them all killed, like Father did when some of the coral miners demanded oxygen, but then I realized that it would be much simpler to just eliminate those above me. And, for good measure, wipe out those at the top of the Prom King rankings as well. Because, after all, you can’t spell ‘monarchy’ without ‘mono’! Isn’t that right?”

Vicky nodded.

“Excellent! Then I am designating this task to you, my most trusted servant. I would have my three-meter-tall, heavily armed cod assassin, Treska, take care of it but, unfortunately, he was killed by one of Vera’s snakes the last time I tried to have her assassinated. In any case, you will have a much easier time approaching our classmates than any of my royal assassins.”

The closest servant split Vicky’s bindings open with a knife and pressed a piece of paper into her hands. It was just notebook paper that had the words “Queen” and “King” scrawled on it in pencil with a list of names written underneath. It was also wet and falling apart in multiple places. The name “Vera Oberlin” was at the top of the “Queen” list. Vicky gulped.

“I can entrust you with this, right, Vicky?”

One look at Miranda’s smiling face was enough to make all of Vicky’s inhibitions fall away. She rose out of her chair feeling ten times stronger than when she sat down into it, which wasn’t technically an exaggeration. Pumping a fist for emphasis, she said, “I’ve killed monsters more fearsome than the ones on this list in my sleep! Beneath this sweater I’m bolstering a rippling six pack and incredible martial arts training! Before long, people will be trying to pass our friends’ corpses off as fashionable pieces of headwear!”

_So bold!_

Miranda clasped her hands together and sang a short, sweet tune in celebration. The sound of it sent a pleasant chill across Vicky’s scalp. “I knew that you would be up to the task! Oh Vicky, my heart is swelling with joy! Tonight, I will order the set of dragon bone goblets that I’ve had my eye on for oh so long to commemorate the occasion!”

Before Vicky could think of anything else cool to say, the bathroom door swung open. A minotaur with earbuds in walked through. He noticed the contingent inside and began to quickly back towards the door. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” His hand fumbled for the doorknob. The closest serf stabbed him three times in the gut and threw his dying body to the floor. He began to kick it so that it would fit beneath the row of sinks as another serf set to cleaning up the blood. Vicky contemplated the list and was disappointed to not see any minotaurs on it.

“Taking out the top contenders should be enough to scare all of the small fry away. I am nothing if not efficient,” Miranda said. “First, secure my sole sovereignty by eliminating those at the top of the Prom King list. Then, take out the two above me on the Prom Queen list. Complete this simple errand, and I will bestow upon you the honor of having my first dance as the monarch of this promenade.”

Vicky’s heartrate skyrocketed up to 15 beats per minute. She nodded to Miranda, promising to the princess that she wouldn’t let her down. Then, filled with aspirations of taking Miranda’s hand onto the Monster Prom dance floor, she stepped through the pool of blood out into the school. She had lots of work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter serves as an introduction to the story. As such, the rest will be much longer. I have the first real chapter already done, so I'll be posting that as soon as I'm done proofreading and editing it. Me and my sister have been playing this game obsessively over the past couple of weeks, so I'm excited to finally be making my first contribution to the fandom. I can't wait to hear what you all think in the comments section! Thank you so much for reading, I'll be sure to update soon.


	2. A Clever Subversion

Vicky’s first target was Liam de Lioncourt. Miranda had instructed her to eliminate those at the top of the Prom King list first, and he was ranked third. Reportedly, he was running solely to be ironic. His campaign slogan was “A vote for me is a vote for entropy.” This bold move struck a chord with many of the social outcasts of the school, as well as a sect of warlocks trying to get the school swallowed by the void. He himself did no campaigning outside of some impossible to understand Instagram posts; it was the warlocks who took to the street and hung fliers for Liam. Vicky was doing him a favor by giving him a quick death. The warlocks might not have been so generous if Liam won and didn’t follow through on the promise they perceived him to be making.

Finding him, however, proved difficult. As it turned out, it was nearly impossible to run into someone at Monster High that wasn’t the object of her affection outside of lunchtime, which was far too public of a place to commit murder. She stalked the halls between and during classes, but all her efforts turned up was one measly encounter with the Wolfpack. She felt much more charming after giving the ravenous hellhounds dating advice, but was no closer to accomplishing her goal.

Deciding that a change of tactics was necessary, she began to think about which places in school her target was most likely to frequent. It always seemed like the whole school turned up to the raves in the Outdoors, but it would be a miracle to find a specific monster besides Juan the Small Magical Latino Cat in the chaos. Eventually she made her way to the bathroom next to the stairs on the second floor. The janitor’s closet there contained the only wifi router that students could log their phones onto, and no other faculty members had been able to get in to turn it off since Damian killed Martin the crazy werebear janitor and hid the body, keys and all. Students would congregate outside of it during all hours of the day to get on social media. But, after several hours of scoping the place out, her quarry failed to appear.

She approached Brian, who was hoping to ask Liam to prom in three weeks, about her issue. Lying, she told him that Miranda refused to speak with her until she procured a vial of vampire tears to flavor her tea, and that she had to find him.

Brian nodded thoughtfully, understanding what it was like to jump through the absurd hoops set out by their classmates. He suggested that looking in the place with the _strongest_ wifi connection was far too mainstream for Liam. If she really wanted to find him, he said, she would have to look in the place with the _weakest_ wifi signal out of the whole school.

Five minutes later, she was looking upon her prey in the auditorium, astounded that it took her this long to arrive at one of the only six interesting places in the school. None of the drama classes were in session at the time. Liam was sitting by himself on a crate, scrolling through something on his phone. Vicky wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste.

She slipped beneath the wooden stage into the dark underbelly of the drama department. Cracks of sunlight slipped through the floorboards intermittently, partially illuminating the various atrocities that someone had tried to conceal beneath the stage. The acrid odor was best described as a combination between dust, blood, and sunscreen. She thought about using her cell phone’s flashlight to light up the ground and see exactly where she was walking, but after accidentally kicking a second skull she decided against it. Some things were best left unseen, she decided. Also, Scott ate her phone last week after Vera convinced him it would let him log into Netflix in his brain.

The sound of Liam’s voice guided her movements amongst the nameless horrors and discarded costumes. It sounded like he was talking to himself. “The best way to experience Instagram is from the auditorium, where the pictures don’t even load in properly,” he said. Vicky couldn’t see him, but she assumed that his face looked smug. “Then, when I like people’s pictures, they think that I like the picture when _actually_ I just like the abstract collage of smudges that Instagram puts in their place. It’s all very avant garde. No.” He paused for a moment. “It’s all very _subversive_.” Vicky managed to navigate so that she was almost directly beneath him. “I’ll start from the top. Practice makes pretentious,” he reminded himself. “Well Brian, if you _must_ know, superior beings such as myself have a slightly different way of thinking about social media...”

From her pocket, Vicky pulled out a wooden stake that she had snatched from Assault Against the Light Arts class. The teacher kept a cabinet full of slayer tools to use as demonstrations, and a little bit of smarts cracked it wide open for Vicky’s perusal. She spotted a trap door in the stage that opened up fairly close to where Liam was sitting. Her plan was to jump out of the door, take the vampire while he was unaware, and plunge the stake through his heart. She was clutching it in her fist and inching towards the trapdoor when something caught her attention.

A pair of bright green eyes were staring up at her from the ground several feet away. She stumbled backwards, bumping into a wardrobe and nearly dropping her only weapon. Thankfully, she managed to suppress the scream that tried to fight its way out of her mouth. Her heart continued beating at the dreadfully slow, monotonous pace that it usually did while her mind steeled itself for combat. Shaking off the surprise, she bent her knees and prepared to launch herself at whatever creature it was she had encountered.

It lifted itself off the ground, and from what Vicky could tell in the dim light it was shrouded by some kind of cloak. By the time it raised itself up to its full height of 5 feet, she felt like an idiot. The Slayer pulled back her hood, revealing the usual mix of misplaced anger and hormonal angst that was her trademark. In her hand it looked like she was holding a crossbow with a wooden stake loaded into it. “What are you doing here?” she hissed, low enough that Liam wouldn’t hear them.

Vicky pointed at the stake in her hand, and then up at the stage.

“Oh.” The Slayer relaxed her shoulders and let her arms fall to her sides. Her brows were furrowed. “You’re here to kill him too?” she asked at a normal volume, causing Liam to momentarily pause in his monologue. After a second of silence, in which Vicky thought of exactly nineteen different ways to maim the Slayer, he continued as if nothing had happened.

Vicky slapped her forehead before putting her finger over her lips and making a shush noise. She wondered how many monsters the girl in front of her had ever actually killed, if any.

“Right, right,” the Slayer whispered. Speaking more to herself than to Vicky she said, “Having one of the hellions on my side, even temporarily, could prove beneficial. After all, those witch skanks have been making use of the monsters all along, and they seem to find plenty of success. On the other hand…” She put a finger on her chin as she considered multiple different possibilities and outcomes, none of them taking into consideration her own ineptitude.

While the Slayer postulated, Vicky thought of how she could ditch her. Having her around was sure to muddle her own assassination attempt, one way or another. It would be easy to just jam the stake that she was holding into her back and kill her, but that would mean two bodies for her to dispose of, and she was running out of room in her usual hiding place. In the end, she decided that the simplest solution was the best and prepared to stab the girl as soon as she was turned around.

The sound of heavy footsteps reverberated around the pit, shaking dust loose from the ceiling. “Liam!” a thunderous voice said. “What are you doing out here in the auditorium during lunch? It’s Fishstick Friday, for Pete’s sake!” It was Scott. The werewolf’s appearance immediately threw a wrench into Vicky’s plans. There was no way that she would be able to kill Liam with Scott around, and taking the two of them out at the same time was even further outside the realm of possibility. As the two conversed, her mind was working a mile a minute to come up with a new plan.

“Ugh.” Vicky could practically hear Liam’s eyes rolling. “Scott. What do I have to say to finally get you to understand that I don’t eat? Do I have to eat one of your disgusting fried fish sticks, then show you an Ultrasound of it sitting in my stomach, literally decomposing over multiple years? Is that what you want? Because at this point I’m tempted.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Vicky wasn’t aware that Scott was capable of making that sound. “Liam. Fishsticks aren’t for _eating_. They’re for _dreaming_.”

The Slayer’s arms were crossed as she looked upwards. “What do we do now? I can still take the two of them out with no problems, but I can’t guarantee your safety.”

Vicky lowered her stake and raised one finger at the Slayer. She kept listening.

“Anyway, what do you want?” Liam asked. “I was in the middle of something very important.”

Vicky heard Scott drag something across the stage, then take a seat on it. “I’m a little bit, uh…what is it when, you know, you see a little imp trying to take down a big werewolf in a football game?”

“I think you mean worried. And, by the way, that was you in the game against Gremlin Prep last week. You dislocated that imp’s neck.”

“Right. Well bro, I’m a little bit worried about you running for Prom King.”

There were a few moments of silence before Liam responded. “And why is that? I for one would find it delightfully ironic if I, the one who clearly cares the absolute least whatsoever about being elected for an imaginary monarchal position, were to be given it.”

“I don’t know about whatever it is you just said, but already eight monsters have tried to kill me since those North Pole thingies came out the other day!” Vicky was 70% positive that he was talking about the polls. “I’m not sure if you could survive even one monster trying to kill you. Especially if you haven’t been eating your protein.”

“Eight monsters have tried to kill you because all of Gremlin Prep swore vengeance after you killed their quarterback! Do you even pay attention to your own life?” Liam’s voice was becoming increasingly strained. He cleared his throat. “Whatever. When I, the uncaring yet very attractive social outcast, am elected Prom King it will be the most sardonic inversion of typical high school tropes that you simpletons have ever seen.”

That was when inspiration struck Vicky. The Slayer had been pacing back and forth, anxiously fingering the trigger of her crossbow. Moving over to her, she whispered in the Slayer’s ear some very specific instructions. She relayed a plan of attack in which the Slayer would move in first and Vicky would provide support, but more importantly she relayed a battle cry that was sure to throw the two of them off their game. Wishing the Slayer luck, Vicky took her position beneath the trapdoor.

To the little girl’s credit, she moved very fast. The two’s conversation had hardly progressed a bit when the Slayer burst through the curtains. Vicky cracked the trapdoor open just a couple of inches so that she could see what was going on. Liam and Scott hadn’t moved an inch, or even reacted in any way other than looking at each other bemusedly. “Prepare to die!” the Slayer yelled. “For I, the Slayer, will be the only one ironically elected to prom court in this high school!” Then, hefting the stake Vicky had been holding earlier in place of her crossbow, the Slayer leapt across the stage at Liam. Her cloak billowed out behind her, giving her the impression of a cardinal swooping through the sky.

Scott stuck out his fist and didn’t have to move it at all for the Slayer to run into it headfirst. The bottom half of her body continued moving forward, flipping her so that her stomach was facing the sky, and her unconscious body fell to the floor. The stake rolled out of her hand, coming to a stop against Liam’s foot.

“That was even easier than usual,” Scott said.

Liam bent over to pick up the stake. “What the fuck is this about?” he asked.

Before Scott could have a chance to reply, Vicky threw the trapdoor open and rushed over to them. “Oh my gosh, Liam, thank goodness! I came as soon as I heard what that lunatic was planning to do, but it looks like I was too late.” She put on a concerned face and hoped that her lie was convincing enough for the two of them.

_So charming!_

“What did she want?” Scott asked.

“To kill me, of course,” Liam said.

“But it was more than that!” Vicky cut in. “You see, she was planning on being elected Prom Queen ironically! But as soon as she heard about how well you were polling, and that you were being ironic about is so much better than her, she couldn’t bear the thought of it and came over here to try and take you out!” Once she finished speaking, all that was left was for Liam to take the bait.

Realization dawned on his face. He put his head in his hands and moaned softly. “Oh no.” He stood that way for several agonizingly slow seconds.

“What is it, bro?” Scott finally asked.

Liam took his head out of his hands and grabbed the front of Scott’s letterman jacket. He attempted to pull the werewolf down, but Scott didn’t move an inch. Instead, Liam stood on his toes and got up in his face for dramatic emphasis. “Don’t you see, Scott? I was careless. I was so good at my ironic campaigning that there are now imitators doing the same thing!” He gestured down at the Slayer. “Becoming Prom King as a joke has become—” His voice cracked. _“—mainstream!”_ He collapsed against Scott’s barrel chest, wailing about the unfairness of popular culture.

“There, there, little buddy,” Scott said, patting his friend lightly on the back. “If it’s really that important to you, maybe you could try running unironically?”

“No!” Liam broke away from the embrace. He wiped his tears with the back of his forearm. “Running ironically may be mainstream, but running unironically is even _mainer_ mainstream!” He clenched his fist. “I will not submit to the trappings of my uninspired peers. I must find an even more revolutionary way to get my message across; an even more dissident platform for my social disruption! But what?”

For the first time in the conversation he and Vicky’s eyes met. She put her cold, dead hand on his cold, dead shoulder. “You know what you need to do,” she said.

Standing up straight, Liam nodded. “Yes. The most artistic way for me to subvert expectations in this box I’ve been painted into is to drop out of the race entirely!”

Scott’s mouth hung open in shock as Vicky jumped for joy in her mind. “And you can take it one step further!” she said.

“How?” Liam asked.

“If all you do is drop out of the race, you won’t be any different from the hundreds of other people at this school not in the running for Prom King,” Vicky explained. “Some of them have probably even had the same idea and dropped out ahead of you. The only way to truly set yourself apart is to not even show up to school for the next three weeks!”

“Yes!” She could see the fire ignite in Liam’s eyes as he spoke. “To go from a top three Prom King candidate to not even attending this high school is the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to not only the system, but to every single person that cares about prom court in any fashion! And no one will even know! People will be not talking about it for generations, I’m sure of it.”

Scott had been standing dumbfounded for the duration of the conversation. He looked frantically back and forth between them. “What just happened? Bro, you mean you’re not going to prom?”

“That’s right.” Liam glanced at Vicky before smirking up at his friend. The gleam of the sun reflected off his glasses, making Scott squint. Vicky was sure that the eyes behind them were full to the brim with smugness. “And, while you’re there feeding into the conventions of our slowly asphyxiating culture, remember that I’m absent the most.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you very much for reading! Every hit means a lot to me. I hope that you're excited for Vicky's next murder attempt, which will be on Damian LaVey! That ought to go well.


End file.
